Every Picture Tells A Story V

All she wanted was to get the hell out of Dodge. She was pretty sure she could call herself independent but had no way to be sure, she’d never been alone. Not really. She’d always had fantasies about being out on the open road. Came close in the days when she could borrow her cousin’s Kawasaki and race the twisting road up and down Blomidon mountain. She ached for something different, something new, something that would make her feel alive again. She wrote stories about taking off, laughed with her best girlfriend about how they should do a “Thelma & Louise”, took pictures of Camaros and Mustangs at the vintage car show that happened every Tuesday in her neighbourhood. Dreams… she’d passed on getting her driver’s license, had a baby that day instead, never bothered to reschedule. She could imagine how it would be to have someone pull up at work one day. First thing. How she’d be surprised and mildly freaked and wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. Hearing the words “Get in. I don’t know where we’re going, close your eyes and point”. They’d be like that video, child of the wild blue yonder. Top down, flying along miles of highway to anywhere And the destination just wouldn’t matter anyway… as long as they were going together.

The path not taken…

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